01. Bleak, Damp, And Dead02. A World, Dead And Gray03. Bed The Cold Earth04. Hypoxic05. Corroded06. Desiderate07. Life Is Long Enough08. Illa Tiðandi

I stumbled across None's Life Has Gone On Long Enough, cross-tagged as both doom and DSBM on bandcamp one grey day and opted to give it a go. And now woe is me.

The power/importance of doom and other extreme forms of evocative music is the ability to make an emotional connection with the listener. Ahab do a swell job lulling the listener on their first two records before powerful riffs crash down like tsunamis. Esoteric try to overwhelm your senses with slow and crushing madness.

Despite the doom tag, None is defo more of the DSBM type. Heavy on the DS, really light on the bm. They don't seek to overwhelm or crush the listener. Instead, it's an Ahab-like lulling, only sans tsunami. The entire album envelopes you like a warm bath. It never goes off, even when distorted riffs are being summoned forth and the drummer is playing more than two beats per minute.

Listening to this was a bit of a dichotomy, though. On part it lured me in and had me laying in bed, entranced. Relaxed. At the same time it also managed to instigate an anxiety attack. No joke. Was laying there, peacefully, enjoying the record and next thing I feel my chest constrict and was overly worried about otherwise trivial shit.

So yeah. Impact, but without IMPACT, if that makes sense. It can draw out the negative emotions in you without beating you over the head.

The production is done so that the distorted riffs, drums and despondent vocals are wrapped in a layer of keyboard or guitar fuzz to make it all warm and tingly. Harsh material yet a surprisingly easy listen.

Other sections of the album are completely stripped down to clean guitar and piano. It's peaceful and serene. Naked and (be) afraid. It is vulnerable, and using the transitive property of infinity (and if thou gaze long into an abyss the abyss will gaze into thee) you are as well.

Huge swathes of the album have a man either crying or laughing himself as he descends into madness in the background, so even serenity feels unnerving.

Perhaps instead of my bath analogy, a better one might be the warm embrace of car-running, closed garage carbon monoxide poisoning. Lay back and enjoy the dirt nap.